


You're not my type

by Threadbear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Sirius is insecure, casual hook-ups, or maybe not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 22:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threadbear/pseuds/Threadbear
Summary: Sirius likes being praised, Severus just came here to get his dick sucked, but he'll do what he has to do.





	

Sirius slams the cupboard door, saunters over and climbs on him without warning, he throws his legs either side of his lap like he’s a child and not a hulking grown man, with little regard to the wooden dining chair Snape is sitting on.

“I thought you were making tea.”

“You’re not my type you know.” He says aggressively.

Snape thinks that’s a given.

Though, he reasons, not necessarily the best time to bring it up.

“Is that right.”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Oh, I don’t.”

“Because I usually go for men much better looking than you.”

Snape smirks. “Like Lupin?” Yes he knows.

He shrugs uncomfortably.

“Strange how things work out isn’t it?” He grins now, Black may as well have admitted it. Pining after his handsome, straight, best friend but screwing the man he hates. It’s pretty pathetic (and he should know). If there’s one thing that’s made this worth it it’s the thought of how much that must pain Black. Ok, two things.

“You’re not my type either.” He says, “Merlin knows.” He winces at the sound of his own voice. He sounds like a petulant child.

“Oh really. Are you sure?” Sirius gives a smug little smile and nods downwards, as if Snape’s hardness proves anything at all. But yes, he’s right to be incredulous because, well Black’s everyone’s type isn’t he?

“Of course you’re not. Not even close.”

Black scoffs at that.

“You’re not that hot you know.”

“Is that right?” Black’s lips are so close he can feel them ghosting against his ear, he takes Snape’s earlobe into his mouth and tugs on it with his teeth.

“Yes. You’re arrogant, vulgar, and vain in a way that’s frankly ludicrous for a man your age. I find you –“ he swallows, “– repulsive.”

“Yes yes, I know,” Sirius says, “I’m annoying, you _despise_ me… there are things you like about me though aren’t there, you can’t fool me _Professor Snape_.” He says the honorific like a taunt, and though it’s meant to goad him it has rather the opposite effect on Snape’s libido.

“Yes well, right now I’m, ah, rather fond of your hands Mr Black.” One of them had found its way into his pants and the calloused skin of his palm is rough against him and wonderful.

“You see? You like this?”

“Yess.” Snape realises he’s quite out of breath.

“Good. What else do you like?”

He grabs tight to the sides of Black’s thighs, _dear god_ the man’s good at this. “I won’t sit here and str-stroke your ego Black, lord knows you don’t need it.”

“Why not? Seems fair. I stroke yours you stroke mine. Want me to keep this up? You said you liked it…”

“Are you really so insecure?” Severus asks, rolling his eyes at the crude and obvious joke. He’s stopped doing that thing where he twists his hand over the head at the end.

“No. Maybe.”

He muffles a frustrated growl into Sirius’s neck. Why does it have to be him?

“Ok. Ok.” He’s going to give in anyway, Black _is_ that hot, and it may as well be sooner rather that later if he wants any chance of making it back to Hogwarts by two. It serves him right for thinking he could pop over for an hour when his first afternoon class was cancelled and maybe convince Black to suck him, but it had been a difficult day and he had been thinking about Black’s mouth on him all morning. As soon as he had arrived it became apparent that Black was in one of his trying moods and wasn’t going to make this easy for him, he seemed put out by his sudden appearance and simply said _I was about to make tea_ and went about busying himself boiling water. Usually Snape’s arrival was queue for them to fuck urgently in Black’s bedroom, if there was no one else about. Black was usually as agreeable to that arrangement as he was.

“Snape.”

“Yes! Yes, I said ok.”

He sweeps Black’s hair away from his neck, so he can kiss it. “I like the way you smell.” He says because it’s true, he does.

“I like the way you taste.” He kisses him again, in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Right here. Like salt and sweet cinnamon.” He wonders if this is what Black was looking for, or rather did he just want _oh baby I love your big fat cock_ porn shit. He could do that too.

It must have been because Black licks his palm and it’s back on him, warm and tacky. He decides to keep going with the true stuff, it would make it easier anyway.

“I like that stupid face you make when were having sex,” he says, “the one that makes you look like you’re concentrating on a particularly hard arithmancy problem – I know the irony isn’t lost on me either – you get that crease between your eyebrows and you bite your bottom lip just ever so slightly.”

He swipes the back of his finger over that lip now and it pops out.

“I do not do that.”

“You do. It’s incredibly sexy. As I’m sure you know.” He adds.

He tugs up at the hem of Black’s t-shirt, “Off.” He says and Black holds his arms up obediently, it’s sweet how obliging he gets with a little praise. Useful. Severus slides his shirt off him slowly, taking his time to admire his hard muscled chest and sun browned skin. I like the way your skin looks next to my skin, he could tell him but won’t. How the contrast makes my arms and my chest look porcelain white where they are normally grey and ugly.

He brings Black’s toffee brown hand up to his mouth and sucks on the fingers, his tongue swirling and licking between each one. They are a man’s hands, thick and large, they taste of salt and tobacco and black engine grease. Black watches closely and he looks desperate and broken. He would find it flattering but Black doesn’t get out much these days so it probably doesn’t have anything to do with him. He places the saliva slick hand back on him.

“What else.” Black asks, thumb swiping wetly over the slit. Black’s voice is sweetly breathless, though Snape has barely touched him.

“I like – _mm yes Black_ – I like how – how you walk into a room like you own everyone in it, like you’re better than everyone. God you make me sick sometimes, you posh wanker, you might fool everyone else with that rough boy routine but you can’t fool me.” It’s a grey area but there’s not much about him that doesn’t make him despise him and want him in equal measure. It’s very easy to continue down this vein.

“I also hate how everyone looks at you. Makes me want to destroy things. Makes me want to mark up that pretty face of yours.” A bit heavy perhaps but they’ve said worse to each other, during sex and not.

“Fuck yeah. You jealous?”

“Always.”

“Good. There’s no one else.”

“There better not be. If anyone else touched you I would fucking kill them.”

“I want you to.”

“I would.”

“Sev, now.” Black pants; his hand slides easy now, slick with Snape’s arousal. “It won’t take long.”

Snape unbuttons him hastily, pushing down the thick denim as best he can.

“Oh God that’s it.” Sirius says though Severus touch is awkward at best with absolutely no finesse and maybe a little more rough than he would usually. Their mouths seek each other and they come together hungrily, God he’s so aroused he would have come if Sirius hadn’t left off his cock to grab his face between his hands. Why is kissing him so good? It’s been five months, hasn’t the novelty worn off?

“I’m so close, you’re gunna make me come.”

Severus answers by biting at his neck.

“Uh _fuck yes_ , so good. God, I think you’re so fucking hot, I want you so bad, I’m such a lying shit, you make my dick so fucking hard Sev, you’re so fucking wrong about… Oh shit. Shit shit shit.”

Then he shoves his tongue deep into Snape’s mouth and Severus holds him and strokes him through until he stops shaking, only leaving off when he starts to soften.

It’s only then that Severus attempts to stroke himself to completion while he thinks Sirius is distracted but Sirius knocks his hand out of the way clumsily.

“Say it again.” He tells Sirius.

“I want you Sev. I need you. You make me so hot, I’ve always wanted you.” He pants, his breath hot and dirty in his ear and his hand rough on him.

“Good boy,” He says, “that’s perfect. Oh God yes yes...”

 

After, he looks down and laughs at the sight of himself, and Black says Babe you are literally covered in come right now. And he finds that endearing for reasons beyond him.

Get off me, he says, the chair’s about to break. And when Black doesn’t move he says, God, what? You know I didn’t mean that right Black? You can fuck whomever you want as far as I’m concerned. That was just sex stuff, that’s just stupid shit we say. Sirius says Oh, sure.

What is it Black? He asks again. Sirius fiddles with a button on Snape’s shirt, Am I really not your type? He says and he’s possibly never looked so beautiful as he does sitting there, loose limbed, with spots of red high upon his cheeks and the last of the dirty afternoon sun glancing off his sweat gleamed skin.

Possibly because he’s just come his brains out or possibly because Sirius looks like a pouting sex-angel, he says wearily Oh Black of course you are. I would have thought that was obvious. I was lying, and not even well.

“Oh.”

“Idiot.” He says, and that makes him smile. He decides he likes making Black smile almost as much as he likes making him come.

“You know… I could just as easily not fuck anyone else. If that’s something you’d want.”

“Oh? Yeah. Sure, I mean if that’s what you want.” Severus says carefully.

“It’s no bother. And would yo-“

“-No. I mean sure, I could do that too, that would be fine.”

“Cool, cool.”

He only has time to spell himself clean, which he hates but he hates being late to class more. They say goodbye politely, which is certainly a first, and Sirius says will I see you Friday? Yes Friday, he agrees a little too quickly.

He makes it on time of course but he feels sticky and unclean and he feels like they know which makes him bad tempered and snappish. He takes 100 points from Potter though later he can’t even recall why but it makes him feel better. He spends the rest of the evening trying to get Black out of his head with no real success. Is Black his boyfriend now? He wouldn’t know, having never had one before. He worries what the distraction could mean for his work for Dumbledore and for everything he must do that he doesn’t even know if he will be able to do. He worries that Black will change his mind. Then he worries that he won’t.

That night he sleeps hugging the pillow Black usually uses on the rare occasion that he sleeps here and he pretends he can still smell him on it.

 


End file.
